


To Be A Rainstorm

by darwinwithadifference



Series: ScarletWidow fics [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darwinwithadifference/pseuds/darwinwithadifference
Summary: Title taken from a poem by Erin Hanson. Steve rescues the Avengers held prisoner on the Raft, and Wanda tries to recover from having her family torn apart again and what she went through while imprisoned. Natasha knows she messed up and tries to make things right, but it's going to take a while for them to trust each other again.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Series: ScarletWidow fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1409710
Comments: 11
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry i've been completely absent, but i'm on holiday now so i'm back! I will try to update more than once a week, but at the least i will update weekly. Hope you enjoy

She thought that Steve was a hallucination.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen things; stars and black spots and even her own blood at the edge of her vision.

But then he cut the collar and the straitjacket off… if it was a hallucination, Wanda decided, it was better than what was currently going on; she’d go with it.

Clint appeared in the doorway of her cell. He smiled at her and came closer to where Steve was helping her shed the shell of material that had been making it hard to breathe for too long. “We’re getting out of here, Wanda. Cap, go ahead; I’ll help Wanda along.”

“Sam and Scott are outside already. I’m here to get the two of you,” Steve replied. He glanced back at where Wanda still sat on the floor of the cell, her position barely changed from when he’d cut her loose. “Wanda, we don’t have much time. If you can’t run, I need to carry you.”

Her arms hurt from staying pressed against her chest. She couldn’t remember when last she’d eaten. Or spoken – she didn’t even want to try. She nodded slowly at Steve, hoping he understood.

He did. “Come on, Wanda.” She tried not to flinch as he swung her into his arms and kept his grip tight around her. She knew he had to. But she had to close her eyes and try to focus on the feeling of actually _moving_ , so that she wouldn’t get sucked back into that straitjacket.

If Steve was worried by her lack of reactions (he was), Wanda didn’t have the energy to feel guilty. She didn’t think she’d be able to explain herself even if she did. She had no idea how to start describing the black and red mess her head had become. Or the bruised, aching mess her body had become.

Wanda found herself in a quinjet. A blessedly familiar quinjet. When Steve set her down on one of the bench seats near the back, she curled up onto her side. She was starting to feel dizzy, and she didn’t want to fall and hit any of the sore spots that dotted her body.

“Wanda.” Steve put a hand on her shoulder, not sure if she was sleeping or blacked out.

In a burst of crimson, he was thrown to the opposite site of the quinjet. Wanda scrambled to her feet, stumbled as her head spun, and promptly fell to the floor, where she covered her mouth with her hands and kept her gaze trained on the man slowly getting to his feet across from her.

“I’m sorry –” her voice caught and she swallowed, feeling tears well in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Wanda. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he replied, kneeling and studying her face. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. Steve smiled. “Good. Can I help you lie down again?”

Wanda allowed him to, because she couldn’t do it herself. She knew that all the months of training at the Avengers compound had been wasted, because she was so much weaker than she should be.

Steve passed her a bottle of water. She took a sip and set it aside, ignoring the pity in Steve’s eyes. She knew she must look like shit.

“We’re going to Clint’s farm. I need to know that you can control your powers enough not to hurt anyone,” he said softly.

_It’s my fault. People died. I’m dangerous I should be locked up –_

“Focus on me.” Steve’s voice brought her back from the torrent of voices in her head.

She blinked slowly, forcing them back from the tiny spot of sunlight in her mind where she could still think clearly. “I… I don’t know. I think I could.”

“I hope so, Wanda. I hope so.” Cap left her to talk to Clint, so she closed her eyes and let herself relax for the first time in far too long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lila Barton is adorable and I think Wanda needs a bit of adorable in her life at the moment

Wanda no longer really believed in any deities, but she still mentally thanked any that existed for allowing the Bartons to exist, particularly Lila Barton. She had babysat for Clint and Laura several times with Natasha, and while she held a soft spot for all the Barton children, Clint’s daughter brought out something in Wanda that she had thought had been shattered along with the rest of her life when she was 10.

Even now, as Steve helped her walk inside and they watched the Bartons all rush at Clint, speaking and sobbing and laughing, Lila drew away and came up to Wanda.

“Wanda! Where did you all go? Mommy said there was a fight and some of you had to go away for a while,” she said, taking Wanda’s free hand.

She smiled. “We did, little Lila. But we’re back now.”

Laura – Nathaniel on her hip, the toddler smiling because everyone else was – approached Steve and Wanda with a look of concern, gently sending Lila in her father’s direction. “Steve, what’s going on?”

He sighed. “Maybe we should all sit down and have a talk.”

Wanda would always be in awe of how efficient Laura was: within minutes, she had the children occupied with getting rooms ready for their sudden guests, mugs of tea and coffee on the dinner table, and the Avengers sat around.

By the time she took a sip of sweet, herbal tea, Wanda could barely keep her eyes open. The others’ conversation became a dull drone as her mind started to shut down.

“Wanda?” Clint’s voice echoed through the fog in her head and she slowly turned in his direction. Sam, Scott, Steve and Laura were looking at her with concern. She was too tired to wonder if it was pity. She didn’t think she really cared, at that point.

“You’re going to stay here with us and lay low for a little while,” Clint explained. “Just until you all recover.”

She nodded.

Apparently, while she’d been zoned out, Scott had decided to go back home. When Steve expressed his concern, he gestured to his suit and raised his eyebrows. They all said their goodbyes, and Clint left to show him to the edge of the property.

Wanda had a vague sense of being led to a guest room. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her side and her eyes were closing. She didn’t stop them.

The pain woke her up. A line of icy-hot pain around her throat and buzzing in her head. _What’s new._

She sat up slowly, wincing as she stretched unused muscles and put weight on various bruises. Laura had left her some clothes; some sandals, a pair of jeans, and a T shirt. But she made her way downstairs still wearing the Raft uniform.

She found Sam coming down the hall at the same time. He nodded. “Morning. How’re you feeling?”

“Sore. Confused,” she croaked, still not used to speaking.

“I’ll second that,” he sighed, and stayed next to her while they made their way to the kitchen. Clint, Steve and Laura were already seated.

Sam pulled a chair out for Wanda, and Clint passed her a plate of toast and pushed the jam towards her. She shook her head.

“You need to eat, Wanda,” Steve said quietly, but in a tone that brooked no argument.

Well, that’s how a normal person would have interpreted that tone, Wanda imagined. She shook her head again. “My neck and my throat hurt,” she whispered.

Steve had opened his mouth to reply when Laura put a hand on his arm. “I’ll make you some tea with some honey in it, Wanda. That should help.”

She tried to smile in thanks.

After drinking half of the tea and greeting Cooper and Lila, Wanda asked Lila to show her to the bathroom. Lila obliged, clearly happy to be given some responsibility.

“Wanda?” She asked when they stopped outside.

“Hmm?”

Lila shuffled her feet and looked up at Wanda with her big blue eyes. “Are you hurt?”

_In almost every way possible._ “Yes, but I will heal,” she replied. She had forgotten how easy it was to lie.

“Can we play dolls later like we did last time you were here with Aunty Nat? Please?” Lila asked.

Wanda felt her lips twitch upwards. “Of course, little Lila. Give me some time to clean myself up, and then I am all yours.”

The little girl beamed and ran downstairs. Wanda watched her go before entering the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably enjoy writing Wanda in pain more than I should. Unfortunately our cinnamon roll has a few more chapters to go before things get better for her. Hope you enjoy!

Wanda pulled on the clothes that Laura had given her. The T shirt was on the baggy side, so she tucked it into the jeans. She savoured the freedom of movement that the soft fabric gave her.

_She spent too long in the shower. Washing her hair, scrubbing at her skin; trying to get rid of any molecule from the Raft that clung to her. By the time she was done, steam had fogged over the medicine cabinet mirror and was swirling above her head. She dried off and then wiped some moisture from the mirror. She looked at herself, and at how she’d changed. She’d needed to sit down and wipe her eyes after that._

Clint had smiled when she’d encountered him downstairs and told him that she was off to play with Lila. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but it was to do with the fact that Clint still trusted her around his kids. He believed she was still in control.

Lila looked up when Wanda knocked on her doorframe. The girl was dressed in denim overalls and a stripy pink shirt: she looked adorable, as she always did. “Would you like to help me with my hair, Lila?”

She grinned and nodded. Wanda eased herself down onto Lila’s bed with a sigh.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Lila asked, bringing over a basket filled with clips, hair ties, and a brush.

“Yes. I’ll just have to try not to talk too much – my throat is sore,” she replied quietly.

She let Lila brush her hair out, enjoying the feeling. Nobody had played with her hair since…

Lila handed Wanda some hair ties. “How come Aunty Nat didn’t come as well?”

“She needed to help some other people,” Wanda found herself saying. “But I’m sure you’ll see her again soon.”

The little girl helped her braid back her long, dark hair into a neat French braid. The feeling of her hair put back tidily helped Wanda feel somewhat more put together. And the hair tie sporting a little blue bow did make her smile.

Playing with Lila was a good distraction. She and Wanda had constructed an intricate backstory for her doll family and were acting out a rather dramatic proposal scene when Cooper barged into the room and informed them that it was lunch time.

Wanda slowly followed Lila downstairs and to the kitchen table. Clint, Steve and Sam were nowhere to be seen, but Wanda didn’t mind. This was a safe place, her mind said; even if they weren’t in sight, they would be okay. Laura’s cooking only compounded that feeling.

“Wanda, I think you should rest after you’ve eaten,” Laura said carefully.

Lila turned to her mother with big eyes. “But we were playing!”

Laura shook her head. “Maybe if she’s up to it, Wanda can play with you tomorrow again, but she needs some time to recover, Lila.”

“I will play with you again tomorrow if you like, Lila,” Wanda replied, smiling at the second-youngest Barton. “But your mother is right; I think I need a nap.”

The little girl nodded and went back to her sandwich. Laura shot Wanda an understanding smile and motioned with her head for Wanda to go back upstairs. Wanda wasn’t about to argue.

She couldn’t sleep. Her back and shoulders ached, and there was no possible comfortable position because it still felt like every inch of her skin was bruised. Which wasn’t too far from the truth: there was still almost as much blue and black on her body as there was her natural skin tone.

Wanda had resorted to lying on her back with her eyes closed. Stretching out her body felt good, even if it hurt. She tried her best to quiet her mind and relax, but she’d given up. All she saw and heard when her mind was idle was guards around her and screams that were not just her own and there was so much _pain_ that she could barely process her surroundings. Pain from the shock collar. Pain from the straitjacket. Pain from the rough shoves and punches meant to keep her down, and pain from the realisation that her new family had also been torn apart.

A knock at her door. Wanda jolted into full awareness and unconsciously moved so her back was against the wall.

“Wanda?” _Just Steve._

“Come in,” she called as loudly as she could. Her voice still didn’t feel or sound right.

Cap opened the door slowly. When he saw her sitting in the corner, he dropped his volume. “Can I come talk to you?”

She nodded and forced herself to stretch out her legs again, making an effort to relax her shoulders and wincing when the pain flared down her back. Steve gave her a concerned look but didn’t comment.

“Wanda, I need to apologise. You choosing to fight with me led to you being taken to the Raft, and I… I can’t imagine what you went through,” he explained.

With a slow nod, Wanda replied, “Thank you, Steve. And I appreciate that you tried to keep me from being punished under the Accords.”

“You were treated as an experiment for long enough. You’re _human_ , for God’s sake.” Steve sighed. “Maybe I’m projecting my own feelings about my experience in the war onto you.”

She regarded Steve for several moments, deciding what she should tell him. She’d only told all these things to one other person. _The wrong person, it would seem,_ her brain lashed out at her heart. But this was Steve, who had fought for her and with her. She trusted him. “I’m young. Physically, at least. I don’t have much in the way of a formal education. Becoming an Avenger came after years of, frankly, torture and not much hope. We were kept in cells and examined like animals. And then Pietro…” Wanda exhaled and wiped the moisture from around her eyes on her sleeve. “You were my new family, and then it turned out that half of my new family saw me just as HYDRA had. I don’t know how to process that. I don’t know if I can recover from this.” She drew her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.” Steve sounded defeated, but she didn’t know how to make him feel better. She heard him get up and leave the room, closing the door after him. She slid down until she lay curled on the mattress, staring at the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be a little delayed with updating in the next few weeks because of family, and because my gf will be staying with me. But i have some chapters pre-written so I will hopefully still be able to update once a week for a little while. Hope you enjoy it

A knock at the door sent the three Avengers into a flurry of Clint rushing his family upstairs, Steve going to make sure Wanda was still asleep (Laura had given her sleeping pills after a panic attack that morning), and Sam diving for the weapons they’d hidden away.

Steve nodded for Clint to open the door. He and Sam stood on either side of the living room, scanning the windows.

“Hear me out before you shoot me, please.”

Clint had expected many things upon opening his front door, and he supposed that a diminutive redheaded assassin should have been one of them. “You’ve got a minute.”

Sam held his position in the living room, but Steve moved forward so he stood next to Clint. “What are you doing here, Natasha?”

She sighed and tucked her hands into her bomber jacket. “Tony found out that I helped you escape with Bucky,” she said, addressing Steve. “He couldn’t trust me after that. And then Ross decided to use those SHIELD files I released to get me imprisoned on the Raft. I didn’t agree with his decision.”

“So you decided to come here for a visit?” Clint asked, stone-faced. “You had better be damn sure no one followed you.”

Natasha didn’t even glare at Clint for that comment. “I am sure. I came here because I realised that I fucked up. And I want to help.”

“How can you help us, Nat?” Steve folded his arms, clearly unwilling to lower his guard.

She glanced over Clint’s shoulder and nodded to Sam, who nodded cautiously in return. “Safe houses. Covers. I have plenty, and you need both right now.”

Steve shook his head. She was right, and she knew it. “Clint? What do you think?” The archer knew Nat better than anyone, with one exception.

“For some reason, I still trust you. Don’t give me a reason to regret that,” he said to Natasha, and opened the door.

After Laura and the young Bartons had greeted Natasha, and Sam had confirmed that there was no one else to be spotted on Clint’s property, Natasha pulled Steve aside. “Where’s Wanda?”

“Sleeping,” he replied tersely. “She’s not doing well.”

He caught the beginnings of a look of devastation on her features before she erased it. “Can I see her? Please, Steve.”

“Once she wakes up, I’ll ask her.” Natasha nodded, knowing that that was the best she would get from Steve. She didn’t blame him for being suspicious; she would have been concerned if he hadn’t been. Even if she wanted to punch him for not letting her see Wanda.

_Wanda won’t want to see you._ Nat shook the thought from her head.

Wanda tried to stay half-asleep for as long as possible. All she felt was warmth and soft sheets; no pain or confusion for the first time since she could clearly remember.

But knocking permeated the sleepy haze she’d been enjoying, and she opened her eyes as Clint opened the door and scanned the room before returning to her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We have a visitor,” he said, sighing.

She tipped her head to the side.

Clint stepped further into the room and regarded her with some concern. She could sense his dislike of the situation, and it made her skin crawl.

“Natasha.”

The name had her sitting upright, sparks of fear in her chest and limbs. “Why?” She whispered.

“The Accords came after her too, apparently. She realised that she was wrong.” Clint shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of it. All I know is that she isn’t lying. And she wants to see you.”

_She wants to see you. She wants to see you._ There was a little part of Wanda that had missed Nat so much she was willing to forget what had happened if it meant she got to see her, but that part was by far in the minority. Most of her brain was screaming at her that it was a trick.

“I… I don’t know if I can,” she murmured, staring at the bedsheets.

“Laura is making dinner now. We’ll all be there,” Clint replied. She knew that he was trying to tell her that she wouldn’t be forced to directly interact with Nat if she didn’t want to, and she appreciated it. Clint had never been very eloquent, but Wanda had learned to read him as she’d learned to love him as a somewhat fatherly figure.

“I’ll come.”

Natasha heard footsteps on the stairs from where she sat at the kitchen table, Lila and Cooper chattering next to her. That was Clint’s tread, sure and constant, but the second one was lighter and more hesitant. She knew it was Wanda’s.

Nat had seen a lot of awful things done to human bodies in her lifetime, but she hadn’t felt sick upon seeing the damage done to someone in years, until Wanda slipped into the kitchen.

The young woman was even thinner than she’d always been, and Natasha could make out a fading red line scored into the skin at her neck. Wanda had always been hesitant, but Nat hadn’t seen her as visibly scared and defeated as she was now since Pietro had died.

“Hey, Wanda,” she said softly, trying not to focus on all the clearly visible (to her eye, at least) signs that she’d been injured. Badly.

Blue eyes, wary and tired, met hers briefly. “Hello.” The word was so soft that Nat nearly missed it.

Wanda sat down between Clint and Steve and kept her head down. She didn’t speak throughout the meal.

Natasha felt like she’d inflicted every mark upon Wanda herself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been gone for a while!

“She hasn’t been out of her room since yesterday.” Clint nodded in the direction of Wanda’s room upstairs.

Steve put his head in his hands. “She needs to eat. And I need to know if she’s okay.”

Laura left the vegetables she’d been chopping in the kitchen and stood behind her husband, rubbing his shoulders. “I’ll go take her something and get her to talk.”

“Thank you, Laura,” Steve replied with a small smile.

“I’m going to check on Nat.” Clint stood from the table and made his way outside, to the barn. His gut feeling was correct: he found Natasha balancing on a beam more than ten feet off the ground, looking out one of the small windows set into the roof.

“I thought looking out from high places was my thing,” he said. Despite what had happened, Clint had to admit that seeing Nat alive and well was a relief. They’d been partners for too long for him not to be very used to her at his side (usually making sarcastic comments).

She glanced in his direction before sitting down on the beam. “I needed to be in a completely different environment. Up in the air works, apparently.” She swung herself down, hung from the beam for a moment, and then dropped onto the floor, landing noiselessly.

“What’s going on in your head?” He asked as she came over to join him, sitting on a bucket a foot or so away.

“What happened to Wanda feels like my fault.”

Clint had suspected as much. “We all contributed to the situation. One person isn’t responsible for anything that happened. We know that, Wanda included.”

“But how did I let her be taken away? How could I let her be hurt?” Nat’s voice shook. He saw her scrub at her eyes with the cuff of her jacket.

“I can’t tell you that, Tasha. You need to work that out. All I can do is sit here and tell you that you’re still my friend. You’re still part of my family,” Clint replied, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.

Natasha let the tears fall this time. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Come on. I’m sure Lila wants some time with her Aunty Nat.” They stood and left the barn, Natasha letting her arm brush against his every now and then. It was the closest he’d get to a hug.

Wanda walked slowly down the stairs, holding the banister for support. Her legs were shakier than they had been for a few days, and she knew it was because she wasn’t eating. There were a lot of things that she knew weren’t improving because she wasn’t eating.

“Wanda!” Lila ran to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hello, little Lila,” she greeted, smiling. Lila hugged her and handed her a card. “What’s this?”

The little girl grinned up at her. “Aunty Nat said that making you a card might help you feel better. We made it together.”

The folded piece of construction paper was decorated with stickers and little drawings of butterflies and flowers. In a child’s handwriting, it said, “Get better soon Wanda. Love, Lila.”

Wanda returned the girl’s smile. “Thank you, Lila. This is lovely.” She spotted some very familiar writing and saw that Natasha had written in the card as well. Along the bottom, in Russian: _I am sorry. I hope you are healing._

“Lila, could you help me make a thank-you card for your mom and dad? It’s very nice of them to let me stay here,” Wanda asked, noting Natasha’s presence at the kitchen table around the corner.

“Can Aunty Nat help?”

“I think she can,” Wanda replied.

When they entered the kitchen, Natasha moved to pull out a chair for Wanda. “Thank you for letting me help,” she murmured as Wanda sat down. She nodded in response.

It didn’t take long for Lila to become completely engrossed in making more cards and pictures, which allowed Wanda to look at Nat properly for the first time since she’d arrived. Natasha seemed to have had the same idea and met Wanda’s eyes nervously.

“Remember the last time we made cards with Lila? All three of us ended up covered in glitter,” she said with a little smile.

The memory unfurled in Wanda’s mind: Christmas with the Bartons, she and Nat in ugly sweaters and seeing who could draw the worst picture of the other to make Lila laugh. Hot chocolate and warmth and safety.

“I remember,” she answered. “Lila was quite amused.”

“So were we,” Natasha added softly. She ducked her head, curls shielding her gaze.

Wanda could sense how much the other woman longed to return to that day. Before this mess started. It was as clear to her as ink spilled on paper; she had always been able to read Nat. But more than that, it was the most she’d used her abilities in a long while. And it had happened naturally, as everything around Natasha seemed to.

“So were we,” she echoed. Natasha looked up, seeming hesitant, and saw Wanda’s lips twitch upward. _She’s starting to let her guard down._ Nat hadn’t felt so relieved in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

“Steve.” Natasha stood behind him, a lot more honesty in her expression than there usually was.   
He was starting to believe that she regretted her actions, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt: “Yeah?”   
“I’m going to try to talk to Wanda. I promise you that if she gets too upset, I will apologise and leave her be. But I have to try,” she said simply. She wasn’t asking for his permission, but she was letting him know her intentions, which was more than he would have asked for.   
He nodded. “Okay.”

When Natasha walked into Wanda’s room after knocking and receiving an answer, she was coughing from the effort of raising her voice to a normal volume. “I brought you some tea. Chamomile with honey in it.”  
Wanda took the mug with a murmured “Thank you” and took a sip. “You remembered how I like it.”  
“Of course I did,” Natasha replied. “Can I sit on the bed?”  
She nodded and pushed herself further upright. She was wearing a shirt that Nat recognised as Laura’s – it was ridiculously baggy on Wanda. It shouldn’t have been that big on her.   
“I want to talk to you about what’s happened,” she began.   
Wanda regarded her solemnly with those blue eyes that still made Nat melt every time. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to do this,” she whispered, a hand going to her throat and rubbing at the still-discernible red mark.   
“All I ask is that you try,” Natasha replied. Wanda nodded, so she continued. “I fucked up. I know I did. I never wanted anything to happen to you; all I wanted to do was keep our family together.” She could feel tears brimming, so she let them fall. She wouldn’t hide anything from Wanda. “I didn’t care how. I was just desperate not to lose what I finally had.”  
“I know how much they meant to you,” Wanda said. “But now it’s broken. Like my first family…” A small whimper sounded, followed by quiet sniffles.   
“I know,” Natasha sighed. “And I’m so sorry for the part I played in that. It kills me to see you in pain; the fact that I caused some of that makes me sick. I know I don’t have any right to expect you to let me touch you again, but I wish I could hold you.”  
Wanda drank some more of her tea and then set the mug down. “I wish I could let you hold me, but it feels too much like a straitjacket.”   
“I’m so sorry, Wanda.” Natasha shook her head. “I don’t know how to make it better.”  
She shrugged. “Neither do I.” But she couldn’t help but reach out a hand to Nat, who took it even though Wanda could feel her confusion. “Nat, you know what it’s like when people see you as nothing more than a threat. Stark called me a weapon of mass destruction. Everyone seems to only see my abilities, not me. I thought you did.”  
“I do,” Natasha replied. “Read my mind; I do. I have always and will always see you first, Wanda.”  
“My abilities are not stable,” she said, smiling sadly. “I’m too scared to use them. That has been taken from me as well.”  
Nat tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like she was being choked. Her chest hurt, her throat hurt, and there wasn’t enough air for her to speak. But for Wanda’s sake she had to. “I thought I could protect you. I got arrogant. I should have tried harder to make them see you as the gentle person you are, because I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt any innocents.”  
“You were still on the side that locked me away.” Wanda had withdrawn her hand and was holding her knees to her chest, chin resting on her knees.   
Natasha stood and turned to the wall, then turned back. She paced for a few moments before hitting the windowsill and looking back to Wanda. “I know. I fucked up so much. I wish it had been me in that prison, Wanda. I love you too much to let anything happen to you, and I let you down.”  
Wanda slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were trained on Natasha, who froze. “You said ‘I love you’, Nat.”  
I didn’t even realise. “I do,” she said before she could lose her nerve. “I don’t expect you to love me back anymore, but I do. I love you, and I’m so sorry.”  
There was a look of wonder on the younger woman’s features. “I love you too, Nat. I can’t change that. I don’t think I could ever not love you.”  
“Even after this? What I’ve put you through?” Natasha asked in a small voice. Wanda could see the hope sparking in her eyes, and it kindled some small, bright thing in her own heart. Something she didn’t realise was still there.   
“Even after this, Nat,” she answered. She reached out her hand again, and Natasha had a grip on it in a heartbeat. “I can’t hug you, but I want to. I need to recover a bit more before that much physical contact is okay, but I wish I could hold you now.”  
Natasha held out an arm with a grin, no longer aware of the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Half-hug?”  
“Half-hug it is,” Wanda whispered, laughing a little. “I’ve missed you so much.”  
“I’ve missed you too,” the redhead replied, rubbing her shoulder before moving back so she was out of Wanda’s space. “And I love you.”


	7. Chapter 7

“You’re looking a bit better today, huh?” Wanda looked up and gave Clint a little smile.

“I feel a bit better. Talking with Nat helped,” she replied.

The archer eased himself down onto the porch bench next to her. “I thought it would. She said she was sorry?”

Wanda nodded.

“Natasha likes to think she’s a complete mystery, but I’ve been around her for too many years not to at least be able to guess what she’ll do. It’s the same with you?”

This time Wanda shook her head, her small smile returning. “Nat knows I can read her like a book.”

Clint chuckled. “That’s a first.”

“It’s the first time I’ve been outside since coming here,” Wanda observed. “The sun is nice.”

“The farm’s pretty in autumn,” Nat’s voice sounded from behind them.

Clint shifted to make room for her on the bench, but the redhead remained standing. “No thanks to you – you’ve never helped on the farm once in all the times you’ve been here,” he remarked dryly.

She grinned and shrugged. “I’d just mess things up. Wanda, do you want to take a walk with me?”

Wanda noted the anxiety in Natasha’s voice at the end of her question. “Okay. But not for too long.”

“Of course not. We’ll see you in a little while, Clint.” Nat helped Wanda down the porch stairs and began to lead her around the farmhouse at a slow pace. “How are you feeling?”

Wanda considered. “Better. Being outdoors is good for me. And our conversation last night put some of my fears to rest.”

“I was about to say you don’t know how relieved I am to hear that, but you probably do,” Nat replied with a sigh and a smile. “I’m grateful that you listened to what I had to say.”

They changed course to circumvent the barn. Wanda answered, “It would not have been fair not to listen. And I know you, Nat. I know what it looks like when you’re being sincere.”

“You’re one of the only people in the world who can say that,” Natasha said. “Sincerity is not something I was raised with, but I try to be sincere with my family. Well, I tried.”

Natasha’s amendment sent a stab of grief to Wanda’s chest, but she carried on walking. “You tried and that is what matters. It will take me a while, Nat, but I would like to try again with you. I’m weak and far from healed, and I need your help. You’re the one who quiets down my mind.”

“I’ll wait however long you need me to. And I’ll do everything I can to help you,” Natasha replied, smiling up at the brunette.

Wanda slowed and then stopped, a hand going to her chest. Nat was at her side in a breath. “Wanda? Are you okay?”

She inhaled slowly, fear flickering across her features. “No. My chest… I can’t breathe…” She swayed a little before dropping onto the grass too quickly for Nat to catch her. She coughed and tried to breathe in but couldn’t get much air in before her frame shook with coughs again.

Nat knelt next to her, taking her hands and brushing hair out of her face. “Wanda, look at me. You need to try to take a deep breath.”

Wanda’s blue eyes were so scared that she felt a wave of nausea, but she carried on. “I think you’re having a panic attack, Wanda. It’s okay; I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m going to help you sit up so you can try to breathe better, alright?”  
She slipped an arm beneath Wanda’s shaking shoulders and guided her into a sitting position. She realised while coaching Wanda through a breathing exercise that she could feel every one of Wanda’s ribs. She’d always been thin, but this – she wasn’t eating enough. But that was a problem for once Wanda could breathe again.

“Do you want to go back to your room to rest?” Natasha asked.

She looked up with watery eyes, still gasping for air. “I don’t… not inside. Please.”

“Okay, Wanda, then we’ll stay out here. Try to breathe with me; inhale for four…”

They sat in the grass while Wanda started to calm down. Nat heard her breathing even out and then a sniff.

“Thank you, Nat.”

She rubbed Wanda’s back. “It’s alright. As long as you’re okay now. Do you want to sit on the porch and have some tea with me?”

Wanda leaned over and rested her head on Natasha’s shoulder. “In a minute.”

Having her so close again was such a relief that Nat felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed and blinked; now was not the time for her to cry. She focused on the welcome weight on her shoulder and the feel of Wanda’s sun-warmed hair on her neck.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... i have no excuse for how long this took me to upload

Steve was glad to see Wanda and Sam sitting eating breakfast together, but was still puzzled. “Have you guys seen Nat?”

“Try the barn,” Sam replied between bites of French toast.

Sam was correct: as he approached the open barn doors, he heard the very distinctive sound of vehement Russian expletives and Clint’s laughter cut off with a yelp. That was followed with some metallic _clink_ s and more growled Russian.

“Should I back away and not make eye contact?” Steve asked as he entered.

Natasha flipped him off from where she was sitting on one of the quinjet’s wings with a wrench in her hand. Clint waved before going back to his inspection of the controls. “We’re trying to make sure there aren’t any trackers or bugs in the quinjet.”

“Are you having any luck?” He asked.

Clint nodded. “I think so. Nat and I have been flying these things for a long time, plus she knows all Stark’s usual tricks. If there’s anything here, we should be able to find it.”

He exhaled. “That’s great, guys. That means we’ll be out of your hair soon, Clint. I don’t want to put your family in danger for any longer than I have to.”

“I don’t think Nat would be very happy if she were stranded on a farm, either,” the archer replied with a twinkling grin.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Clint, shut up and get back to checking the controls.”

Steve thought he heard something akin to a muffled “Yes, Nat, no, Nat, three bags full, Nat” and tried not to laugh. He focused on Nat.

“You said you’d have somewhere for us to hide out.”

She nodded. “I do. But I’d like to keep it to myself for as long as possible.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Nat, normally I’d leave that up to you, but we’re all a bit too on edge for me to let that happen.”

“I guess that’s fair,” she sighed and jumped off the wing, landing lightly and using her momentum to propel her into a stroll past Steve. He followed as she left the barn and continued, “I didn’t want to say anything near the quinjet just in case there is something in there. Here’s the safe house.” Nat handed him a scrap of notepad paper with an address written on it in her small, clear hand.

It was remote and not in an area any of them (bar Natasha, probably) were familiar with. Steve handed the paper back to her and nodded. “Thank you, Natasha.”

“The side I chose wasn’t right, but neither was yours. I’m sorry I didn’t try to fight for a better solution for all of us. This is how I choose to show you that you can trust me again,” she explained quietly, meeting his eyes.

Steve smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. How long until you and Clint are sure the jet isn’t bugged?”

“A couple hours,” Clint hollered from inside. When Steve turned to Nat to ask how the heck he’d heard them, another yell sounded: “I turned my hearing aids up. Can’t help it; I like to know what’s going on.”

Chuckling, Steve left the pair of spies to their work and headed back up to the house.

Several hours later, Natasha found herself next to Wanda and fighting back tears as they said their goodbyes to the Bartons. Wanda knelt and gave Lila a long hug, pressing something into her hand before rising with Natasha’s help.

“Be careful, all of you. If you need us, we’ll be here,” Laura said, her children now in front of her and Clint at her side.

“We can’t thank you enough, Clint; Laura,” Steve replied. After another round of hugs for everyone, Natasha led the way to the quinjet, which she and Clint had backed out of the barn and was not currently in stealth mode, as it would be the minute they took off.

“Wanda, let’s get you seated,” Steve said gently, guiding her over to one of the passenger seats further back as Nat and Sam headed up to the controls. She let him help her into a seat and do up the safety harness – she was too busy focusing on not thinking about the contained space she’d be trapped in for the next while.

Sam glanced out the window at his side briefly as they lifted off, silently thanking the Bartons again for all they’d done. Then he was back in the present, helping Nat with the ascent.

Before Natasha could settle into the routine of flying, she heard Steve call her name from where he and Wanda were seated. She nodded at Sam, who took her place at the controls. “Keep heading east. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

_It’s Wanda._ She knew as soon as she spotted the brunette’s hunched shoulders and Steve crouched nearby.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” She asked, settling on her haunches in front of the shaking, unresponsive Wanda. She reached out and took one of her hands, which got Wanda’s attention as she’d hoped it would. “What’s the matter?” She asked again.

“The contained space,” was the whispered answer.

Steve blew out a breath. Natasha’s mind hopped from idea to idea, until it landed on a memory.

_“If we’re going to get out of here,” Clint had said to her, meeting her gaze with cold practicality, “I have to know you won’t flip out. Either you promise me that, or I have to knock you out.” She’d fought the panic building with every explosion in the building above them, trying to ignore the pain of what was likely a broken leg._

Nat focused on Wanda’s scared eyes and her fidgety hands. “I can give you something that will let you sleep until we arrive at the safe house. I don’t want to if I don’t have to, but you can’t afford to panic now. Especially not with your abilities still volatile.”

There was a flash of what she thought was anger in Wanda’s gaze before she closed her eyes and took a breath. “Do it.”

“You sure?” Nat asked, already reaching for the medical kit behind Wanda’s seat. At a nod from the younger woman, she opened a packet containing a syringe already loaded with a clear fluid.

“You’re going to be fine, Wanda. You’ll wake up and you’ll be out of here.” She tried to reassure her, but it was difficult when memories of the sting of a needle and falling into darkness were flitting through her mind.

Wanda looked at her and nodded again. “I trust you.”

Natasha rolled up Wanda’s sleeve, wiped an alcohol swab over her upper arm, and injected the anaesthetic.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping this is the penultimate chapter, and that i can upload the last one soon!

Natasha’s cabin in the woods was almost too neat and quiet to be real, but it was somewhere safe and secluded, and that was all that Wanda cared about. Natasha hadn’t told them exactly where it was, and Wanda didn’t want to know. The woods reminded her of Sokovia, and familiarity wasn’t something she’d let go of when everything else in her life had fallen apart.

“Wanda, would you like some coffee?” Steve asked from the little kitchen area. She shook her head and huddled further into the blanket she’d cocooned around herself. The sofa in front of the fireplace was moderately comfortable and she didn’t plan on moving any time soon.

Natasha entered the living room. “You should have something warm, Wanda. It’ll make you feel a bit better.”

“Do you have tea?” She asked quietly. Coffee was too harsh for how she felt; she needed something warm and calm.

Nat made a face. “I don’t think so.” She nudged Steve out of her way and rummaged through the cupboards. She peered around the open cupboard door and smiled at Wanda. “But I do have cocoa.”

That smile… Wanda remembered that smile. That was the grin they’d shared when they’d sat in the kitchen of the Avengers facility at 2AM and ate all the ice cream. It was the smile that Wanda loved the most: the smile that told her that to Natasha, she was something special; someone who made Nat happy in a way that hardly anything did. It was the smile that told Wanda how much she was loved and cared for.

“Hot cocoa?” She asked, giving Nat a small smile in return.

The redhead nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

A few minutes later, Natasha had joined Wanda on the sofa in front of the fire. They sat in easy silence, each holding a mug filled with warm, sweet cocoa.

_This feels good. I’m… calm. Not on edge. I’m okay._ Wanda smiled into her mug and let the steam obscure the scene before her.

Natasha didn’t say anything when Wanda leaned closer to her on the sofa. She could see Wanda’s eyelids drooping from the edge of her vision and grabbed the brunette’s mug before it could fall and scare her. After setting the mug down on the floor, Nat gently shifted Wanda so her head rested against Nat’s shoulder. Wanda sighed and Nat felt her relax.

_Good. She needs to rest._

But soon after that, Nat felt Wanda’s shoulders tense. Her hands, resting on Natasha’s leg, began to twitch. She could hardly believe what she was seeing when slim flickers of scarlet began twining around Wanda’s fingers.

Shortly after Wanda’s powers had made an appearance, Wanda herself jerked upright, eyes wide open.

“Wanda? Wanda, you’re okay, we’re in the cabin…” Nat trailed off as she saw the young witch’s attention snap to her hands, where crimson tendrils still played. To her horror, Wanda seemed afraid of her own powers.

Natasha reached a hand out slowly to Wanda, but before she could make contact, Wanda had curled in on herself while scarlet sparks began to appear around her, swirling around until they obscured the witch entirely.

“Wanda!” Nat hated to raise her voice where Wanda was concerned, but she needed to get the attention of the young woman who was on the floor in front of… the young woman who wasn’t there anymore.

By the time Nat had grabbed Steve and Sam from their respective corners of the cabin, her heart was racing more than she cared to admit. Steve had his shield in hand, and Sam was shrugging on his wings so he could try to find Wanda from above. Nat and Steve would separate and search on foot.

Nat knew these woods well enough to hope that Wanda hadn’t gone too far. But with her powers, and her emotional state as unpredictable as it was, anything was possible. She headed uphill while Steve took downhill and Sam rose to the sky.

Natasha was shivering by the time her phone rang. “It’s Sam. I found Wanda. I’m hovering above the trees – can you see me?”

She turned around, scanning the sky, until she spotted an unreasonably large bird. “I see you. I’m on my way. Where’s Steve?”

“A little closer than you are and also on his way. Hurry – Wanda doesn’t look good.” Sam cut the call and

left Natasha to start running through the – blessedly light – covering of snow as best she could.

It took her a bit more than twenty minutes to spot Steve near a cocoon of scarlet. She pushed her aching legs a bit further, until she arrived at Steve’s side and Sam dropped down nearby.

“She’s completely shielded herself. I don’t think she can hear us,” Steve observed.

“Who’s going to try to get through the shield first?” Nat asked with a grim smile.

Sam volunteered, which Nat had to commend him on. They all knew how impenetrable Wanda’s shields were, but there was no other way. And if the boys could weaken it for her, Nat had a better chance of breaking or damaging it and getting through to the scared young witch inside.

However, Sam’s attempt didn’t go quite as he’d planned. He’d gone for speed, hoping that he could break through the shield before Wanda’s powers had time to counter him. Steve and Nat both winced as one of his wings clipped the shield, throwing Sam back and sending him stumbling down the slight decline.

“Walk it off, pal.” Steve helped him up.

Sam shook his head and exhaled. “That’s all I got. Sorry, Nat.”

“I’m assuming your strategy is just to bang your shield against it and hope for the best, huh, Steve?” Nat asked with not a little exasperation.

He shrugged. “Worth a try?”

The shield was also a bust: Steve got thrown violently down the slope, his shield ricocheting off several trees before landing near him with a defeated _plunk_.

“Alright, boys. New plan,” Nat announced.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the title finally makes sense! I really love Erin Hanson's poetry and I think Wanda would too. I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic and thanks so much for reading xx

After who-knows-how-long lying in the snow and crying, Wanda got her breath back and fear under control and sat up. She had to blink several times and wipe her eyes with a shaky hand (still tucked into her overly long sleeve) before she could look around with any clarity.

There was a small shape close to the other side of her shield. Having to look through the shield her powers had made caused Wanda to wince – _my abilities appeared without me summoning them; what if that happens again and I hurt someone? How can I trust myself?_ – but she forced herself to, more scared of another threat than her shield.

Wanda felt ill when she recognised the fiery locks belonging to Nat. Now that she knew who it was, she could discern Nat’s jacket and the outline of her small but solid body.

Breathing deeply, she focused on calming her heart rate and becoming aware of her body, like Clint had shown her. She’d been surprised to learn how interested in meditation he was, but it had helped her calm her anxieties and panic less when she needed to be able to focus.

Once she was calm, Wanda went searching for the threads of power keeping her shield up, locating them easily and bringing them back under her conscious control. It was oddly calming to be using her abilities again, although Wanda suspected it was because she was now certain that she had control over them once more.

As webs of scarlet began to dissipate, Wanda saw that Nat now had her eyes fixed on her, concern and fear clear for Wanda to see in her features. She couldn’t manage to maintain eye contact, but she turned her body towards Nat.

“Wanda, are you okay?” Nat asked gently.

She nodded.

“Can I give you a hug?” She reached out a shaky hand towards Wanda. It took all the restraint she had not to envelop the witch in the biggest hug she was capable of, but Nat knew better than to do anything to startle Wanda while she was a little less than what could be considered stable.

Once Wanda nodded again, Natasha rose from her knees and crouched down next to the young woman, wrapping arms around her and squeezing. “You scared us there, little witch.”

“I scared myself as well,” Wanda replied softly. “Did I hurt anyone?” Her big blue eyes were concerned and scared – Nat didn’t have the heart to tell her how long she’d been waiting in the snow for her shield to dissipate.

Nat shook her head. “You might have dinged Steve’s shield though – if I’m right about that, I think Stars ‘n Stripes might be pretty spangled.”

Wanda giggled. “Are we far from the cabin?”

Pulling out her phone, Nat pressed ‘redial’ and waited for Sam to respond.

“Why did you have to call right when I was gonna sit down?” He complained.

Nat grinned. “Shut up and come get us, Flappy Bird.”

Wanda smiled a little as she looked at Natasha. She was pretty sure she knew what Nat was doing, and it was just as sweet as she’d come to expect Nat’s expressions of affection to be. “Nat,” she began.

The redhead hummed, motioning for her to continue as she began to scan the semi-visible evening sky for Sam.

“Are all these dad jokes to try to cheer me up?”

Nat winked, but said nothing.

After another mug of hot chocolate and a hot shower for Nat, the four in the cabin settled down in the two tiny bedrooms of the cabin, one of which was technically a study but had been occupied by Steve, Sam, and their borrowed sleeping bags.

The other room had a little cot and an extra fold-out mattress. Wanda and Natasha were both huddled up on the fold-out mattress, which had been expanded with cushions from the sofa. Nat had found all the extra blankets she could and piled them around, making a den of the sort that she knew Wanda liked to sleep in.

“Nat,” Wanda said softly. She set down the phone she’d been using to read.

Her girlfriend looked up from tugging on another pair of socks. This was sleep-soft, quiet Natasha, who would curl up next to Wanda as she read to her before falling asleep. Wanda felt some calm settle in her chest; if she and Nat could be like this with each other again, she hoped they’d be alright.

“I found a poem I really like. Can I read it to you?”

Nat fitted her body alongside Wanda’s, rested her head on her shoulder, and covered them with blankets. “Go ahead.”

“It’s by Erin Hanson,” Wanda informed her.

“You were born to be a rainstorm,

To send your voice throughout the night,

To sing your song with falling raindrops,

To break the darkness with your light.

You were born to show raw beauty,

To wash the dirt out from their eyes,

But the whole world ran for cover

When you opened up your skies.

So you made your thunder silent,

And learnt to bite your rainy tongue,

You gave them what they thought they wanted,

You gave them life with endless sun.

But as they watched their lives grow weaker,

Watched as their leaves turned brown and dry,

They wished they didn’t take for granted

Your booming presence in the sky.

You were born to be a rainstorm,

To be chaotic and be bold,

To show there’s beauty in the knowledge

That you cannot be controlled.

Because you might think you’re not needed,

Life without you is the same,

But nothing beautiful would ever grow

If it wasn’t washed with rain.”

Nat rubbed her eyes and let herself relax into Wanda. “It reminds me of you.”

Wanda smiled and kissed her forehead before she put down the phone and sunk into Nat’s warmth. “I don’t know about that. I mean, about the part where they wished for the rain to come back. But I like the idea of being ‘born to be a rainstorm’.”

“I like the idea of you knowing how beautiful the rain can be,” was Nat’s reply. “Sleep well, little witch. I love you.”

She thought she heard Wanda mumble a reply before her breathing deepened and soothed Nat into sleep as well.


End file.
